Chapter 1: Aeropos Auction House
On a busy street crowded with thousands of people lay a grand building. The building was white in color and sleek in design. There were humongous pillars that held up the roof. Each pillar uniquely designed by a master architect. In front of the roof laid a sign that read, "Aeropos Auction House". The stairs that led up to the entrance were also white in color embellished with a red carpet. The doors that blocked the thousands of people waiting outside were made with the finest wood, outlined with gold.
Among the thousands of people waiting outside of the majestic auction house, there was a simple farmer who went by the name Jones. The Aeropos Auction House was an influential auction, where only the ones invited could join. However, every six months they sold slaves and anyone could enter. Where normally, only the most influential people of the country could enter, now it was first come first serve. This is why even Jones a measly farmer was standing outside, waiting for his turn to enter.
Jones was a farmer, but his aspirations were much grander than just farming. He inherited his farmland from his father, at the age of 28 when his father passed away. With no other family members, Jones was the only one managing his farm. "The last time I came here, I was able to pick up a couple of old slaves. They were fairly cheap. Hopefully now, I'll be able to buy a younger slave who I can train to be obedient. The younger the better. If I am able to find a slave with good potential, and make him serve only me, I'd have a trusty servant. This way when I become the nation's finest and richest merchant, I wouldn't have to worry about power struggles." That's right, his aim was not to live out the rest of his life as a simple farmer. He wasn't aiming to supply the city either, he wanted to become a merchant, and the one that the top of the hierarchy of the nation.
As Jones was thinking to himself, the doors to the Aeropos Auction House opened. A man came out and said in a loud and clear voice. "Ladies and gentlemen welcome to the Aeropos Auction House. Everyone please line up, and enter one by one. First come first serve. Only the first 2000 people will be let in. Be sure to hurry, but please don't fight for the right to entrance. Thank you for your cooperation."
Right after the man said that, everybody started to line up, and enter. When it was Jones' turn, he entered and was handed a number tag. The tag read 1139. The interior of the auction house was even more majestic than the exterior. There were countless priceless paintings hung up on the wall for visitors to admire. The red carpet on the ground was made from the finest fabric available. One by one, everybody was led to the main auction room. There were countless seats, way more than the maximum number of people allowed to enter. As everybody sat at their allocated spot, Jones looked around and saw that there were at least 3000 more available seats. Truly extravagant.
After everybody settled in, the auctioneer walked up to the stage, and said, "Welcome ladies and gentlemen, to the semiannual slave auction. Today, we have for everyone, a range from normal to rank 3 slaves."
As the man mentioned rank 3 slaves, the audience voiced their displeasure.
"We here at Aeropos Auction House apologize for the lack of quality in the rank of slaves, but there was truly nothing we could've done. Well anyways, without further adieu, let's get started with the auction. The first plethora of slaves we have to offer are all elderly, about 50 years of age. They are each specialized in their particular field, as shown by their age. However, that is also their flaw." As he said, this you could witness clearly 7 different men, and 3 different women walking up to the stage in shackles. They had hung on their neck a name tag, and their job.
"The first slave we have to offer is one who goes by the name Berl. Berl is an apprentice blacksmith. His skills are absolutely amazing. Whoever buys this fellow will definitely not regret it. He was sold into slavery after being unable to pay his debts. The starting price is 1 gold. Each bid increment must be raised by 1 silver." Staring into the man's eyes you could see helplessness, sorrow, and a broken spirit. And after his price was named, he sighed as he realized that this was his reality.
"1 gold, 5 silver." Someone called out from the crowd.
"1 gold, 25 silver." Somebody else yelled out loud.
"2 gold."
The auctioneer's eyes were filled with joy. The price of a novice blacksmith was at most 1 gold, but he managed to sell him double the price. Although it wasn't a lot compared to senior auctioneers, this was his first auction. Regaining composure he happily said, "2 gold from #76. Going once, going twice...going thrice, and sold to #76." Nobody else would bid above 2 gold for a mere novice blacksmith. It would've been a waste of money. As Berl realized he was finally sold for 2 gold, his eyes had an additional spark, a spark of hope. He too knew that his worth was 1 gold.
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